Little Betsy Sue loved ponies. She drew pictures of ponies, collected pony stickers and stamps, she even had little pony hair clips to hold her hair back at school. Once, when she was seven, she’d drawn ponies all over her bedroom walls with red and brown crayons. Her mom didn’t much appreciate that. Probably because she didn’t like ponies as much as Betsy Sue did.

When she was nine, Betsy learned something new about ponies, what happens when they grow up to be adults. She learned where old ponies go when they die. And she had an idea.

Now Betsy has all the ponies her little heart could desire, all sitting in a neat little row in a bookshelf in her room. They’ve got curious names, but she loves them all the more for it.

Over here is Elmer. That one is called Gorilla. This one’s name is Super (which is a strange name for a pony, but Betsy doesn’t mind). Another was called Krazy. And over here she’s got the runt of the pack, a skinny stick of a pony without a real name.

Such wonderful ponies they all are!